


Desperation for Healing Hugs

by LadyDrace



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crying, Crying Derek, First Meetings, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-06
Updated: 2015-01-06
Packaged: 2018-03-06 09:48:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3130127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyDrace/pseuds/LadyDrace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles works at a movie theater and Derek's kryptonite is Disney movies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Desperation for Healing Hugs

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Stephcake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stephcake/gifts).



> This was a commission from my wonderful internet wife [Steph](http://stephstiel.tumblr.com/), who is so good to me, I don't deserve her. <3
> 
> Based on [this tumblr post](http://coffeeinallcaps.tumblr.com/post/106150271796/adhdnoravalkyrie-consider-the-i-work-at-a).
> 
> The title is from a song from Disney's Frozen. If you've seen it as many times as I have, you probably know which song it is.
> 
> Unbetaed.

As part time jobs go, Stiles doesn't think it's too bad. Doing grunt work at the local movie theater doesn't pay much, but he gets to watch one movie a week for free, and get employee discount on snacks. And as long as he can keep convincing Greenberg to play poker on their breaks, and wager restroom duty, he can probably go the rest of the year without scrubbing a single toilet. Not that the theaters are less disgusting, when it comes right down to it.

 

People are pigs. Stiles realized as much after a mere two days working there, and if he ever finds out which dickbags put their sodas on the floor, making sure someone will tip them over on the way out, Stiles will do Horrible Things to them. Probably involving the damn carpet cleaner he has to haul around six times a day.

 

But apart from that, the job is pretty cushy, and he can take his time now, here in the middle of the day, when only moms and their toddlers come to see the latest kids' movie, and only three of the theaters are in use. He hums quietly to himself as he dials up the lights enough that he doesn't have to squint, but still leaves them fairly low. It's cozy, in a way, puttering about in the soft light, gathering trash and flipping up seats.

 

A few stragglers are still making their way to the exit, chattering quietly and pointing out a few funny names on the still rolling credits, but eventually even they leave, and the projector turns off. Silence descends, and Stiles is slowly going about his business when he hears a small noise from the back. A quick look around informs him that apparently one last person remains, and at first Stiles thinks the man is ill. He's curled in on himself, and every once in a while he'll make another small noise, shoulders quivering.

 

Worried, Stiles makes his way to the back row, and gently touches the guy's shoulder.

 

“Excuse me, err, sir, are you okay?”

 

The guy groans, and for a moment Stiles is half convinced he's gonna be cleaning up vomit in a few seconds. But after a long silent moment, the guy does raise his head and reveals his face. Which looks perfectly healthy. Apart from the fact that it's flushed and streaked with tears.

 

Stiles is completely stumped. He knows from experience that nothing makes him feel more useless and awkward than a girl crying. However, as it turns out, that feeling is multiplied by about a _thousand_ when the crying person is a full grown man, still sniffling and choking down on tiny sobs every few seconds.

 

“I'm fine,” he says, sounding just as clogged as he looks. “I'm just... just...”

 

“Crying.”

 

He glares at Stiles, even though the effect is somewhat diluted through the tears. But the glare is warranted, Stiles admits that much.

 

“Ah, yeah, that was... obvious. Sorry, I'm just not good with... crying. Uhm. Hey, so what's up?”

  
Stiles gets another glare, and has the good grace to wince. He knows he sucks at this, but he's trying here, okay?

 

“It's just... the movie,” crying guy says, gesturing vaguely at the screen.

 

As much as Stiles wishes he was the kind of guy who never judges, this does make him pause. “Erm. Dude, you watched _Frozen_.”

 

“I know,” he says miserably.

 

“And you're... crying.”

 

“Well, gee, I wasn't aware of that, thanks for the info!”

 

Stiles puts up both hands in surrender. “Jeez, man, no need to get all snarky on me. It's just not the type of movie people usually go all... weepy over.”

 

“I know,” the guy growls, which is a little surreal since he's still wiping his eyes and sniffling against his sleeve. “This is so stupid. I watch horror and gore and zombies without even flinching, but it's like Disney is my... fucking kryptonite.” He sniffs hard and his eyes dart around the theater. It takes Stiles a moment, but then he realizes that the guy was checking for kids because he _cursed_.

 

It's probably the most adorable thing Stiles has ever seen. And Stiles has seen Scott with baby animals, many, many times. Topping that enormous pile of cuteness takes some intense adorable. It's even more astonishing because the guy is kind of... anti-cute. His jawline looks like it's chiseled granite, and his stubble could probably sand hardwood floors. And the _eyebrows_.

 

He still looks extremely miserable, though, and Stiles just wants to help the guy somehow. Hell, he didn't even get around to finishing his popcorn, which Stiles figures has to be a crime in some countries. Even after working in a movie theater for months, Stiles has yet to find a snack more heavenly than movie theater popcorn. Which probably explains at least half his motivation for even taking the job.

 

“Uhm. Well. Can I help you at all? I mean. Do you need, like... tissues? Water? A hug?”

 

The guy looks at Stiles like he offered a blowjob. Which Stiles would happily do, to be quite honest, because the guy is really kinda hot in an intimidating sort of way, rivaling even the terrifyingly beautiful Lydia Martin.

 

“No. Thank you,” the guy adds belatedly, and while it's said with about the same level of politeness Stiles reserves for old people that smell bad, he'll take it anyway.

 

“Okay, then!” Stiles says cheerfully. “So, I kinda need to clean the place, but you can stay here and... you know, finish up or whatever until I get to your row.”

 

He makes sure his smile is sincere as he makes to turn around, but the guy stops him with a hand on his elbow.

 

“You were serious?”

 

“Uh... about what?”

 

The guy looks at him strangely. “Are you really willing to hug a complete stranger, just because they're crying?”

 

Stiles snorts. “Dude, I'd drop to my knees and blow you, if that could stop you crying. Disney might be your kryptonite, but crying is mine.”

 

The guy makes a small choked noise, and for a moment Stiles thinks he's about to start crying again, but then he backtracks and realizes what he said. Damn his broken brain-to-mouth filter.

 

“Erm. I... didn't really mean to say that. The BJ part. Uhm. Yeah, I'm just gonna go now.”

 

He scurries off to the other end of the room to get on with the cleaning, and tries hard not to look at the guy in the back, but there's no mistaking it. He's staring. Dammit. As usual, Stiles' goddamn mouth makes sure to scare all the hot people away.

 

But apparently he's wrong about that, because a few minutes later, the guy slowly walks up to him. (And throws his empty popcorn box in the trash on the way. Stiles thinks he could love him.)

 

“I just wanted. Uhm. Thank you,” the guy says, and this time it sounds sincere.

 

“Anytime, dude,” Stiles says happily, and smiles widely. Turns out the guy is even hotter when his face isn't bloated and red. Who woulda thunk.

 

The guy nods and then shifts oddly for a moment.

 

“Is... there anything else I can help you with?” Stiles asks, both because it's his job to be friendly, but also because he would, pretty much no matter what the guy needed.

 

In return he gets a gruff sort of noise, that's probably meant to be a farewell of some kind, and a crumbled napkin shoved into his hand. Well, he's gotten trash delivered in stranger ways (namely thrown at his head) so he just takes it, and watches the guy stomp out of the theater in all his scary sexy glory.

 

Stiles is about to throw the napkin in his trash bag when he notices something written on it.

 

_If you ever wanna make good on the hug or the other thing, call me. Derek._

 

And then a phone number. From an extremely hot guy. Who Stiles might get to blow.

 

He makes a small victory dance, and goes about the rest of his day with a spring in his step. A super hot guy just gave Stiles his phone number. He won't even care if the guy – _Derek_ – cries all the way through sex, this is a win!

 

As it turns out, Stiles ends up being the one crying through (the amazing, mind-blowing) sex.

 

End.  


End file.
